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She is paid a second visit.

All the while she held my gaze, forbidding me to lower my eyes. My jaw ached and my lips felt like they might tear apart. 'What a picture you look,' she said and laughed cruelly.

She turned aside to take a glass of water from the slave girl. As she drank, for half a second, my eyes traveled up her ankle and trim calf, past her knee and on up her silken thigh, exposed as it was by her raised foot. 'Leave us, slave,' she dismissed the slave girl and turned abruptly back to me. I lowered my eyes, fearing that she had noted my insolence.

After some time she slowly removed her foot. I thought she would try the other for size, but she did not. I thought then that she might dismiss me as she had the previous days. She did not do so. 'Your foot service is satisfactory,' she said in a peculiar, amused voice.

I said nothing.

She looked at me, merely raising her eyebrow.

'Thank you, mistress.'

'You may kiss my calf.'

'Thank you, mistress.' I bent to put my lips to her right calf, planting a timid kiss. I went to rise again but she set her left heel to the back of my head, holding it there. 'Continue!' she commanded. I did so. Crouched at her feet, naked, I kissed and licked and sucked and ran my tongue over her smooth skin. Never before had she allowed me such a privilege.

Gradually, with her left foot on my head, she guided me higher. I kissed her knee, turning my head to slip my tongue in underneath where her skin was warm and moist. Still higher I went and she tugged away her robe somewhat, perching on the edge of the couch. She guided my mouth to the smooth pale skin of her inner thigh. I put my lips to it, felt its softness, hardly daring to breathe. Hardly daring to believe what I was doing, I inched higher, bathing her skin in kisses.

All of a sudden, her hand gripped the hair of my head. I thought for a moment she would pull me into her but instead she thrust me back. I looked up at her, pleading. If she noticed my arousal, she made no comment. 'Other leg, kajirus,' she commanded.

Again I went to work, worshipping the ankle and the calf, the knee and thigh. I feared that my manhood might burst its restraint, or that the restraint, bound too tight, might unman me. I could smell her rich scent.

Once again I felt her hand grip my hair, but this time I was not thrust away. Instead my head was tipped painfully backwards. I looked up from where I knelt on the floor among her skirts. There was colour in my mistress's cheeks. This time she chose to notice my manhood. She smiled. 'Does the slave beg his mistress?' she asked softly.

'Yes, mistress,' I sighed.

'Beg me, slave.'

'Please, mistress, a slave begs to . . .'

'To what?'

'To please his mistress.'

'How please her?'

'With his tongue,' I sighed, my own face reddening. 'With his mouth.'

She said nothing but in a single movement stood half up off the couch and parted the skirts of her robe, spreading them behind her, baring her beauty. I did not dare behold her but bent forward at once to her womanhood. It was warm and moist and salty, softly furred. Her scent was rich and earthy. Timidly, with my tongue, I found the soft divide. I pushed in, tasting her heat and her wetness, and then smoothly up, as I had been trained, feeling with the tip of my tongue for the hard nub of her pleasure. I found it and she stiffened. I felt her thighs press and then release my ears.

Back and forth across it I ran my tongue. I circled it and heard a low moan. She shifted slightly on the edge of the couch. I put my lips to it, kissed and then sucked, and again her thighs imprisoned my head. 'Harder,' she hissed, 'faster.' I began to quicken my pace, my nose buried in her soft fur, tongue working, dropping down at intervals to probe her wetness and her heat.

I was aware of more sighs, a longer, low moan.

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